The package sat on her porch for exactly 27 minutes before she opened it. I know because I timed it. What followed was the most spectacular meltdown I’ve ever heard through a phone. And honestly, it was worth every penny of overnight shipping.
I’ve always considered myself lucky. At 35, I have a stable job in tech that pays well, a beautiful home in a quiet neighborhood, and most importantly, a wife who makes every day better than the last.
Jane and I met through a mutual friend at a charity fundraiser five years ago, and I still remember the way she laughed at my terrible joke about the silent auction. It was like music. “You’re staring again,” Jane said one morning as she poured herself coffee. Sunlight streamed through our kitchen window, catching the gold flecks in her hazel eyes. I grinned. “Can you blame me?” “Yes,” she laughed. “But I won’t.”
That’s Jane. Always quick with a comeback, but even quicker with affection. We don’t have kids yet, though we’ve been talking about it more lately. For now, it’s just us, and honestly, our life together is pretty great. Jane is everything I could have asked for in a partner. Everything about our relationship is perfect, except for one glaring complication. Her mother, Celia.
My mother-in-law has always had a… competitive streak. Especially when it comes to my wife. Every time I give Jane something thoughtful, Celia somehow makes it about herself.
Last month, I gave my wife a beautiful bracelet for her promotion at the marketing firm where she works. It was white gold with a small diamond pendant. Jane nearly cried when she opened it. “Andrew, it’s perfect,” she whispered, immediately putting it on. “You always know exactly what I’d love.”
Two days later, I got a call from Celia while I was at work. “Must be nice getting fancy jewelry,” she said. “I’ve only been a mother for 32 years, but who cares, right?”
This wasn’t new. When I bought Jane a designer handbag for Christmas, Celia spent the entire holiday dinner pointing out how her own purse was “practically falling apart.” When I surprised Jane with a weekend getaway for our anniversary, Celia called to remind us that she hadn’t had a proper vacation “in decades.”
That evening, when I got home, I found Jane in our living room looking troubled. “Everything okay?” I asked, loosening my tie. She sighed. “Mom called me today. She was upset about the bracelet.” “Yeah, she called me too,” I said, dropping onto the couch beside her. “I don’t understand why she can’t just be happy for you.”
“She’s always been like this. When I was a kid and got a new toy, she’d suddenly need something new too. Dad used to say she never outgrew being an only child.” “Well, she’s certainly perfected the art of making everything about her,” I muttered.
Mother’s Day rolled around, and despite our issues, I wanted to do something nice for Celia. After all, she was Jane’s mother, and that counted for something. I gathered flowers from my late mom’s garden and arranged them carefully in a vase I had restored myself. Thoughtful, personal, beautiful… the perfect gift.
Or so I thought. Celia greeted us with air kisses and ushered us into her dining room, where she’d prepared dinner. She looked at the flowers like I had handed her a plate of spoiled fish. “Your wife gets diamonds, and I get weeds?” she said, barely touching the vase.
Jane was mortified. “Mom! Andrew spent hours on this arrangement. These are from his mother’s garden.” “Oh, how… thoughtful,” Celia said with a tight smile. “I’ll just put these in the kitchen.”
The rest of the evening was tense, with Celia making little comments about how “some people” were more valued than others. By the time we left, Jane was close to tears.
Then it got worse. Jane had recently gotten into really unusual gifts. First, she asked for a glowing geode lamp. Then came a framed butterfly collection. Then, a skull made of hand-blown glass. “Babe,” she said one night with a grin. “Can I get a tarantula?”
I wasn’t convinced, but Jane looked so excited about it. So, I got her the tarantula. A fluffy brown creature named Rosie that lived in a terrarium in our home office. Jane was thrilled.
And that’s when the idea hit me. A week later, I ordered another tarantula. Same breeder. Same packaging. Same species. I included a care guide, special food, and a small terrarium setup. Everything needed for tarantula ownership. I had it carefully labeled with a gift note that read, “Since you always want what Jane gets. Enjoy! Love, Andrew.”
And I sent it straight to Celia’s house.
Three days later, my phone exploded with calls. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” she shrieked before I could even say hello. “Good afternoon to you, too, Celia,” I said calmly. “You sent me a spider. A GIANT HAIRY SPIDER!”
I put on my most innocent voice. “Oh no, Mom! I thought you wanted the same gifts I give to my wife. I just wanted to make sure everything stayed fair.”
She hung up. I heard from my brother-in-law, Rob, later that she screamed when she opened the box, dropped it, and it skittered across the floor. (Don’t worry. It was in a secure enclosure, no risk of escape.)
When I got home that evening, Jane was waiting for me. She didn’t look happy. “You sent my mother a tarantula?” For a moment, she stared at me, and I braced myself for anger. Then, to my surprise, she burst out laughing.
“Her face must have been priceless!” she gasped between giggles. “Rob said she jumped on a chair like in a cartoon!” “You’re not mad?” I asked. Jane wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “She’s been calling me all day, ranting about how you’re trying to give her a heart attack. But you know what she hasn’t mentioned once? My bracelet. Or any other gifts.”
Celia hasn’t asked for “equal gifts” since. She’s cordial at family gatherings now, maybe even a bit wary of me. The tarantula found a new home with Rob’s son who, apparently, always wanted a pet spider.
And Jane? She’s more in love with me than ever. She says any man who would send her mother a tarantula to defend her honor is a keeper.
Moral of the story? If you’re going to beg for the same gifts, then be prepared to get exactly what you asked for.
